


Feels Like Home

by ems



Category: Merlin (BBC) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-27
Updated: 2010-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-12 22:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ems/pseuds/ems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin is wearing the most ridiculous jumper Bradley James has ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Warm and fuzzies all over the place. In so many ways.  
>  **Disclaimer:** RPS is wrong, kids. And I don't own Colin or Bradley - they just own my soul.  
>  **Author's Notes:** Written in the wake of these [gorgeous pictures](http://gealach-ros.livejournal.com/221330.html) of Colin wearing an enormously adorable (and adorably enormous) jumper oh my God. I just couldn't resist. Title is taken from [my favourite cheesy lovesong](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Am7EI5tdaX4). ♥

Colin Morgan is pretty much used to Bradley James laughing at him now, but usually it takes more than five seconds before he has caused his co-star to actually full-on guffaw. Not this time though. All he has done is walk into the room where they are having the initial readthrough for Series 3 and Bradley is bent over the table, holding his side, laughing his frankly quite ridiculous laugh, and there is _absolutely no good reason for it_.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" he says, shooting a helpless look at Angel, who is knitting the fluffiest scarf Colin has ever seen.

"Where Bradley's mind goes, I do not care to follow." Angel says, shaking her head. "Welcome back, Colin. You look skinny." Her concerned eyes run over him, seeking out every dip and hollow. Colin feels like he did when he was fourteen and broke two ribs playing football and had a million x-rays.

"He looks _skinny_ ," Bradley chuckles, seemingly having got his hysteria under control, "because of that _ridiculously_ large jumper."

Colin flushes, and looks down at his grey jumper. It's one he stole from the wardrobe department of The Island. Something to remember the experience by, but also because it is soft and warm and was perfect for pulling his hands and knees into when he got back to his cold flat and was the closest thing to home as he waited out the post-filming comedown period with nothing but tea and DVDs for company. "What's wrong with my jumper? It's cosy." he protests, plucking uselessly at the sleeves.

"It's like a... what's that thing you got for Christmas, Katie? Whossit?" Bradley scrumples a sheet of his script and chucks it in Katie's direction.

Katie doesn't even look up from her book as she answers. "A Slanket."

"A Slanket!" Bradey is like a puppy with a new toy now, bouncing excitedly in his chair. "It's a blanket with SLEEVES! That's what that jumper's like, Morgan."

Colin rolls his eyes. "It's just a jumper. I like them baggy."

"That's not just baggy! You could fit two of you in there. Hell, you could fit one of you and one of _me_ in there! Although," Bradley continues thoughtfully, "it would have been easier before I started working out in the break." He comes foward to stand in front of Colin and pulls at the sides of the jumper. Colin isn't sure if he's puffing his own chest out subconsciously or on purpose, but either way he's sure he looks faintly ridiculous.

"That fat head of yours would not go through the neck hole, Bradley." Katie remarks, dryly.

"Ha bloody ha, McGrath." Bradley says, sarcastically. "Seriously though. Could you not fit me AND Colin in that bloody thing?"

Colin is horrified to see that Angel actually looks vaguely intrigued.

"Actually..."she begins. Colin shoots her a horrified look over Bradley's shoulder and waggles his eyebrows in a way that he hopes conveys _Please, please, please God don't encourage him, if you love me at all_ but apparently she doesn't speak Eyebrow. He's sure Katie does, being well-versed in the practice herself, but he has always known that Katie has a wicked streak a mile long, and the suspicion is only confirmed when she raises her eyes from her book, meets Angel's eyes, stifles a giggle and says "Rubbish, Bradley. You could NOT fit in that jumper."

Colin's eyebrow waggles turn to death glares.

"I bloody could." Bradley says, determinedly, "and I'll prove it."

Before Colin can open his mouth to protest, Bradley is stripping off his own jumper. His thin t-shirt rides up as he does, revealing a slice of tanned, toned stomach. Colin forces himself to look at something, anything else. _Think about football_ , he orders himself, and begins mentally counting back all the FA Cup winners from now until 1955.

Bradley steps back, head cocked to one side as he appraises the situation. "Come and help me." he orders. Colin stands there helplessly, feeling like an idiot, as Katie and Angel join Bradley and mirror his position, Angel failing to repress a smirk. Katie, however, is the picture of calm. A beautiful, calm demon. An _evil_ , beautiful, calm demon. _You will definitely, absolutely, totally pay for this_ Colin thinks, deciding that if he glares at her hard enough she'll hear him.

If she does, she ignores him utterly. "You'll have to go in head-first, Bradley. From the bottom."

Colin coughs and splutters, and Katie, behind Bradley, sticks her tongue out at him.

"You're right," Bradley nods, and gets on his knees, his face far, far closer to Colin's crotch than Colin could ever be comfortable with, oh God. He can't help but allow one torturous thought of _huh, this is not how I wanted to get Bradley in this position_ before he feels Bradley's nose make ACTUAL CONTACT with the fabric of his jeans.

 _Chelsea, Portsmouth, Chelsea, Liverpool, Arsena- ffffuck! - Arsenal, Man U..._ Colin thinks desperately.

"Fucking hell, Bradley." he says, as he feels Bradley's head and hands squirming about on his chest and his stomach and his shoulders. _I will KILL you_ he mouths at Angel and Katie, who are both doubled up in silent laughter. Angel has stuffed her knitting in her mouth to keep from exploding.

"Almost there!" Bradley's voice sounds rather far away and muffled, coming from somewhere in the region of Colin's bellybutton, leaving a little moist, warm patch against his skin. Colin curses himself for not wearing a t-shirt. He feels Bradley's arms snaking down the sleeves against his own, and Bradley links his fingers with Colin's to pull the sleeves into position.

Colin recoils as a blonde head emerges from the neckhole, thumping him on the chin as it does. "Oops! Sorry, Col." Bradley shakes his hair, a gold blur right in front of Colin's eyes. "There." he says, triumphantly. " _Told_ you we'd both fit into it."

His nose is alarmingly close to touching Colin's. Colin leans his head further back.

Katie and Angel are quivering with surpressed hysteria. "You were right, Bradley. It turns out you and Colin fit very well together." Katie says, solemnly. Angel emits a high-pitched shriek of mirth, which she attempts to hide with a cough. It doesn't work.

Colin thinks he might die, just fucking die right here with Bradley's chest pressed against him and Bradley's fingers still losely entwined with his own and Bradley's fucking _mouth_ just inches away from his own. He is too bloody miserable and distracted to even think about FA Cup winners any more.

They stand there lamely for what feels like a century but is probably only thirty seconds.

"Right," Bradley says. "Jonny will be here soon so we best extract ourselves from this situation." He suddenly sounds a little awkward, the thrill of having been proven right wearing off slightly.

Colin sends a silent prayer heavenwards. _Please God, I know I don't talk to you all that often and I'm really not very well-behaved and yes, there is all that wanking and the odd bit of gay porn and I have totally lied, like, seven times today, but if you love me at all, do not fucking let him get out the way he came in._ Colin isn't sure what other way Bradley is meant to get out, but he'll take it, even if it involves a minor miracle.

"Erm..." Bradley says, lamely, trying to stretch the neckhole of the jumper. "Oh, blast."

He is stuck. _Oh sweet mother and baby Jesus_ , Colin thinks, reverting, as always in times of crisis, to sounding like his mother. He is stuck, face to face, chest to chest, stomach to stomach - a shiver runs through him - crotch to fucking _crotch_ , with _Bradley fucking James_ , the most beautiful man he has ever seen. It's like a wet dream gone wrong.

"Bloody idiot." he mumbles, wondering how long he can disguise his rapidly growing hard-on.

"A little help, girls?" Bradley says, looking over his shoulder. Katie's eyes flick momentarily to Colin's, and a tiny twitch of her eyebrows sets Colin off. He cannot help but smile at the absolute, utter _ridiculousness_ of the situation he has found himself in. Katie grins back at him, and then flicks her eyes back to Bradley.

"Sorry, Bradley. You got yourself into this... you'll have to get yourself out." She grabs Angel's wrist. "If you want to, that is."

She and Angel dart out of the room. Colin can hear them shrieking with laughter all the way down the corridor. He is torn between the desire to find them and kill them both, or find them and _kiss_ them both.

Bradley slumps his forehead against Colin's shoulder, laughing helplessly. "Oh shit," he says. "Now what?"

Colin feels Bradley's breath tickling his ear, and a shiver runs down his spine. He bites his lip, hard, and tries to think about his granny but he is powerless in the face of this much skin on skin contact with Bradley, and his cock lurches painfully.

 _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck._ There is no way Bradley could not have noticed that.

Sure enough, he feels Bradley stiffen against him. "C-Col?" he says, tentatively.

Colin turns his thoughts heavenward again. _Thanks very fucking much_ , he hisses, silently, _but him STAYING here was not what I had in mind._ He runs through all the possible answers to Bradley's unasked question in his head. _Sorry, but you really fucking turn me on and I have wanted to touch you like this since about the third week after I met you and this is actually hilariously close to one of my favourite fantasies and will provide me with wank fodder to last a lifetime and by the way, I think I kind of love you._

"Um." is what he says.

Bradley pulls his head away from Colin's shoulder.

"Are you-?"

He doesn't finish the question, and Colin's not sure what word would finish it, but he knows that whatever it is, the answer would be yes. He nods, mournfully.

"And do you-?"

Another small, sad nod.

Colin sees it starting at the very corners of Bradley's mouth, but he doesn't trust what he's seeing until the smile has spread across the whole of Bradley's face.

"Fucking hell, Morgan." Bradley says, grinning at him. "Why the fuck didn't you say anything?"

And before Colin can do anything other than offer a silent _thank you_ to Angel and Katie and heaven and even the fucking _jumper_ , _thank you thank you thank you_ , Bradley's beautiful, beaming mouth meets his and draws out an answering smile as Colin moves into a kiss that feels precisely like home.


End file.
